


I carry my love for you like teeth (and I am starving)

by meinposhbastard



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Language of Flowers, Multiple Orgasms, POV Alternating, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), proposing, sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinposhbastard/pseuds/meinposhbastard
Summary: They want to do this the human way, too, even though they both know that a piece of paper will only ever be a human symbol of what they’ve known and felt for a very long time.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22
Collections: Ineffable Wives Exchange 2020





	I carry my love for you like teeth (and I am starving)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comicgeekery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comicgeekery/gifts).



> *barges into your house* two horny wives served piping hot on a silver platter.
> 
> They wouldn't stop having sex, okay. Whenever I thought the whole thing was winding down, Crowley would come up with other ideas. But hey, more lovemaking for y'all. I ain't really complaining here, and I'm sure you ain't either XD
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the last stanza of **Marge Pierce's "The Nuisance"**

***

Crowley did so like to go around their cottage barefoot, even though she always complained of cold feet. Aziraphale suspected it was simply an elaborate demonic ploy to get the resident angel — here estimably mentioned — to warm them up. 

The dull thuds of her feet rushing down the stairs preceded her voice. “Angel!” 

Aziraphale turned another page of _Sense & Sensibility. _“In the sitting room, my dear.”

“Have you seen my black lacy garter belt? The one I—”

“You last had on when you impressed upon me the need to, as you put it, break in the extravagant rug that clashes with everything in this room?” Her bare toes wiggled slightly in the luxurious rug.

There was a pause in which Aziraphale’s bastardness grew tenfold. Indeed the rug had been incredibly well ‘broken in’ by their various and salacious activities that evening. However, that did not mean that Aziraphale would not gripe about the unfitness of it in such a sensibly decorated room.

“You won’t let me live that expense down, will you?”

“Never.”

“I remember you were enjoying the fluffiness of the rug quite thoroughly last time I had you on it.”

“Why, my dear, such indecorous words you’re using.”

“Are you reading Austen again?”

“Indeed I am,” she said without ever turning to look at her demon.

Crowley came up to the side of Aziraphale’s armchair and pressed a loving kiss to the crown of Aziraphale’s head, arm around her shoulders, and hot breath fanning over her ear. “So may I _impress_ upon your— _sensibilities_ an enquiry as to where my garter belt is, madam?”

“You may,” Aziraphale said, turning yet another page, having not read a word on the previous ones.

“Any chance I shall have my answer this side of summer?”

Aziraphale smirked down at the page and pointed towards the old oak chest drawer next to the window. “I took the liberty of having it folded and placed in the third drawer.”

“With the _tea towels?”_ Crowley should have taken theatre as a hobby. She certainly sounded scandalized enough to be offered a role — as the aunt with the fainting couch at the ready.

“As you recall, I added a separator between the tea towels and some of the things you keep leaving here when we play.”

“Naughty angel,” Crowley murmured in delight as she crossed the room and opened the drawer. “Aftercare is more important than cleaning the room afterwards. You do so like a long session of cuddles.”

“Indeed, I do. It was not a critique, my dear.”

“Oh, there’s the remote to the double dildo. And the short riding crop. I thought I lost it in the greenhouse last month. Been looking for it ever since. This is a treasure chest, angel.”

Aziraphale hummed, waiting, not even pretending she was reading.

“Ah, there’s my gar—”

And that was the moment Crowley, resident demon and Aziraphale’s own wife in all but on paper, discovered the little surprise she had prepared for her. Crowley was all but frozen before the open drawer, hands keeping the clasped belt between her fingers. Aziraphale placed her bookmark on the previous page and joined Crowley.

“Since when…”

“Since when have I planned this? Since when was your garter belt in there? Since the last time we played here, as I said.”

Crowley glanced up at her and Aziraphale thought her darling might have missed her shades because she could read every single emotion in her demon’s eyes. And there was _a lot_ crashing down on her.

Aziraphale’s heart sped up, wanting nothing more than to envelop her darling demon in her arms and pepper her in kisses, but she needed to see this through because it was important to both of them.

“It’s been six days… you… you’re… are you?”

“Yes, I am, my darling,” she said, gently covering Crowley’s shaking hands over the garter belt. “Will you marry me, my dear girl?”

“Your ring is covering the clasp of my garter belt,” Crowley said faintly, not quite breathing.

Worry wormed its way into Aziraphale’s wildly beating heart. “Dear me, your face is as pale as a ghost. Come sit down, my dear. I wouldn’t want you to faint on me.” She guided her demon down on the couch, one hand still clasping Crowley’s.

“Faint?” She laughed a bit hysterically. “Faint. You’re— you’ve— you proposed to me. You just did. Propose. To me. I was proposed to. By you. There’s a ring involved. Did you notice that? A ring. I—”

Aziraphale tittered at that, Crowley’s nervousness transferring to her. “Yes, Crowley, I proposed to you. And yes, there is a ring involved because I intend for you to wear it for as long as you want to.”

“You want to give your ring. To me.”

_“Yes,”_ Aziraphale said a tad impatiently, the garter firmly clasped under their hands.

“Are you sure?” Her voice shook so badly that Aziraphale’s chest constricted painfully, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”

Crowley nodded, once, then looked down at the ring that her thumbs had been twirling around since she sat down.

“Will you?” Crowley asked suddenly, looking up hopefully at Aziraphale as she lifted the ring at chest level. “Please?”

Aziraphale unclasped the garter and took Crowley’s left hand. The ring shrank to fit Crowley’s long, thin finger to perfection. She leaned down and kissed it which got her a lapful of demon and deep, loving kisses.

***

She was busy tending to their special dinner, the next day, when she felt the shift in the air. But she didn’t turn around because she was just taking out the Pyrex with her oven mittens. When she did turn, the first thing she saw was a simple white vase with a display of flowers. In the middle there were two irises, one blue and one yellow, around them seven forget-me-nots, and in front of all of them sat a single snowdrop.

“Snowdrop?” She turned to Crowley because her presence always felt like a warm hearth in winter, enveloping Aziraphale whenever they were in each other’s company. “It’s summer, my dear.” She looked out the window at the calm rain that had been going on since two days ago. “Well, as summery as it can get in England.”

Crowley was leaning against the opening to the kitchen, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face, shades firmly in place.

“I thought you’d appreciate the colours and their scent,” she replied cryptically.

Aziraphale smiled warmly, even though she was beginning to have an inkling as to what was happening there, since Crowley had made no move whatsoever to come embrace Aziraphale like she always liked to do. This was meant to be a surprise of some kind, and Aziraphale’s knowledge in the language of flowers was what would most probably guide her in discovering what Crowley wanted to tell or show her.

“Is this where you were all morning? Picking up flowers for me?”

Crowley hummed and Aziraphale had the distinct impression that her lovely demon was waiting for something. So Aziraphale turned slightly and leaned in to breathe their scent in, starting with the forget-me-not at the top of the whole display.

“Is there a reason why this display is full of love and hope?” She looked at it closely. “There are no tulips or daffodils, so you’re not asking for forgiveness.” She glanced at her demon and caught the slight uptick of one corner of her mouth. “Two irises of two different colours. Blue, if I’m not mistaken, symbolizes hope and faith, while yellow is passion.” When she looked at Crowley again, there was a small, pleased smile there. “And the snowdrop is a symbol of purity, rebirth, and modesty as well as hope.”

She was bending towards it, the smallest of the three types of flowers, as she also remarked, “and is there a reason why there are exactly seven forget-me-nots, two irises, and one snowdrop, which, based on that research you did some months ago, 721 means ‘I love you’ in—”

She took a sharp breath in when something fell into her palm just as she was delicately pulling her hand away. 

“Crowley.” She breathed out, staring at Crowley’s snake ring.

“Will you?” Crowley asked and when Aziraphale looked up, her demon had unpeeled herself from the doorway and was approaching Aziraphale slowly.

“My dear, you know—”

“Yes, but humour me.”

Aziraphale smiled down at the black ring in her palm and offered it to her will-be wife. “Will you do the honour?”

Crowley took in a shuddering breath and warm hands cradled Aziraphale’s as she bent down to kiss the tip of the middle and ring fingers. She straightened up and willed her shades away. There was so much hope and worry in her eyes, but also love shining through all of that. She slipped the ring onto Aziraphale’s ring finger, enlarging enough to fit snugly around it.

“I want to spend the rest of eternity with you, angel. I know we don’t need a human ceremony to seal what we have already sealed long ago. I know you already proposed and I already said yes. So this is pretty useless considering human customs. But I was never a rule-follower or a tradition-follower. We wouldn’t be here, if that were the case.” She chuckled nervously, the pads of her fingers stroking at Aziraphale’s hand. “But I’d— I’d be honoured if you’d have me this way, too. I mean, it’s not— it’s not— you don’t need to do it, if you think it’s—”

Aziraphale hugged her silly demon so tightly that Crowley sputtered before she stopped breathing and hugged Aziraphale back just as tightly.

“Yes, my love, I’ll have you any way you wish me to have you!”

“Oh, good, because I already sent out the wedding invitations.”

Aziraphale laughed and laughed and kissed her mad demon’s neck and cheek and lips and breathed in the love that had been clinging to Crowley since, possibly, the dawn of her existence.

***

She opened the first door on the second floor in her hurry to escape which turned out to already have someone inside. And not just any _someone._

“Anathema, dear, did you find my earrings? I swear I left them in their box on the dining—” Aziraphale came out from behind the screen and Crowley froze on the spot. “Crowley!” She was trying to keep her strapless hi-lo gown up because she couldn’t reach back to properly zip it up.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale repeated, this time more scandalized than the hopeful, delighted note she uttered her name before. “You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding! It’s bad luck!”

That unfroze Crowley. She was in front of her angel in an instant, and she placed her cold hands on Aziraphale’s hot shoulders before she gently turned her to face the full-length mirror to the side.

“Crowley, dear? Is something the matter? You’re oddly quiet.”

Crowley was keeping the flaps with one hand, so she could pull the zipper up. And she was taking her time, solely focusing on this one, simple task as if it was the most complex, most delicate thing she would ever do and everything, the _entire world,_ depended on how well she performed in that moment. Aziraphale helped by straightening up and sucking in her stomach.

But she didn’t account for how her would-be wife was going to interpret her silence.

“Is it not to your liking?” Her voice softly descended into dejection, her hand fussing over the front of her dress. “I went with Anathema and Madame Tracy and they both approved of it. It even has pockets, which is such a brilliant detail on gowns, why don’t all gowns and dresses and skirts have models that also incorporate pockets? But I believe we can call the shop or go back there and choose ano—”

Crowley had plastered herself to Aziraphale’s back, having finished zipping her dress up. She had to lean her head down a bit because she was wearing her heels while Aziraphale was barefoot on the plush carpet. Her fingers dug slightly into Aziraphale’s biceps, drawing comfort from that.

“Angel, there’s not much fueling my self-control right now,” she murmured into her ear, through the fall of her shoulder-length wavy hair. She chose that for the wedding, otherwise she kept her hair short. “You are exquisite, an open invitation for me to peel this gorgeous gown off you and have my wicked way with you right here, right now, the whole wedding be damned.”

Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath, leaning into Crowley.

“Crowley,” she said, sounding as if she wanted to be scandalized and turned on at the same time. “We can’t— shouldn’t. There are people waiting for us outside.”

“I know, angel, I know.”

Aziraphale leaned her head to side, and Crowley couldn’t well refuse the blatant invitation to kiss her neck. She ended up biting gently the meaty bit which drew a soft moan from her angel. Crowley’s control was fraying at the edges, she was _this_ close to— 

“Now where has Crowley gone?” Madam Tracy’s voice filtered through the door and Crowley straightened, reminded all at once why she took refuge there. “We are running out of time.”

Aziraphale smiled. “My dear,” she said, softly, fondly and a tad admonishing.

“She wants me to try on three different wedding gowns. One is a mermaid gown! Can you believe the horror?”

She turned around and cupped her cheek, which Crowley leaned into like the thirsty woman for affection that she was. “The agony, I’m sure,” Aziraphale said, amused. “Is this the dress you want to wear? A black flapper dress and a black and red headband?”

Crowley looked down at herself and grimaced a bit. “You don’t like it?”

“On the contrary. It suits you better than a mermaid gown.” She smiled and Crowley mirrored it. “Are those snake earrings?” Aziraphale touched the left one and Crowley grinned and nodded. “Of course they are.”

“Well,” Anathema said as she opened the door to Aziraphale’s room, “I’m sure you’ll find— oh.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Of course you’re here.”

Without thinking about it in any way, form or shape, Crowley took a step behind Aziraphale, and Aziraphale splayed her hands to the side as if to deflect any attack coming their way, Crowley’s action setting off Aziraphale.

Anathema rolled her eyes and Madame Tracy appeared in the doorway.

“There you are!” Madame Tracy’s tone was admonishing in the way that only old aunts or grandmothers could muster. “I don’t think I have to tell you, dearie, but it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t apply to us,” Crowley retorted.

“Even so,” Madame Tracy was not backing down, “you wanted a human wedding ceremony, so you should follow the rules.”

Crowley sighed dejectedly, knowing that no matter how she spun it, Madame Tracy would not leave her alone.

“I’ll come with you,” she pointed an accusing finger at Tracy, “but I’m not trying any other gown. This is the one I like and want to wear and Aziraphale loves it!” She was stepping out from behind her angel, but Aziraphale caught her arm and Crowley looked back in surprise.

“Here, my dear, for your nerves.” 

With the free hand she searched her hidden pocket in the gown and took out a fistful of red-wrapped— chocolate? Upon a closer inspection, they were advertised as being Mon Chéri, whole cherries in liqueur wrapped up in dark chocolate. 

Crowley grinned and planted a closed-mouthed kiss on Aziraphale’s lips out of the blue, to the indignation of the other two women and the amused, delighted chuckles of her and her angel. 

***

“You were my enemy for about five seconds before you became an unlikely ally, then an acquaintance, then a friend, then someone I could never have let go of no matter what adversity we would face. And we faced a big one, didn’t we?” Her voice shook over that question and Aziraphale’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Then you became my best friend and partner. You loved me — still do—” Ah, fuck, Crowley was not going to finish reading that without crying. “Still do and I’ll forever wonder at this. At you loving someone like me, someone who should, by definition, be unlovable. But you did, you do, and—” Crowley sniffled, choosing to ignore the tears that rolled off her cheeks, “the truth is, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She let her hands fall to her side, looking up at Aziraphale. “Because the thing was, is, will always be that I love you so much that not even God Herself would be able to pry me away from you. Wipe me out of existence and I’d still find a way back to you.”

They were both crying liberally now, Aziraphale muttering ‘oh, Crowley’ over and over and over again.

Sniffles and delicate coughs could be heard from their witnesses, but Crowley only had eyes for her angel.

“You may kiss the bride!” the priest said, sniffling delicately, and Crowley was already kissing her angel even before he finished saying that. 

***

Aziraphale crowded Crowley against their bedroom door just as she was going to open it and Crowley moaned against her angel’s hot mouth as her hands dragged slowly along Crowley’s thighs, her knee keeping her legs open. Not that Crowley would have done anything to stop Aziraphale at that point.

“Angel,” she breathed out.

One hand cupped her against the see-through lace knickers she had put on that morning, while the other went to the zipper on her back and fumbled with it until Crowley helped. They both giggled into each other’s mouths as they shared more kisses and Crowley started getting impatient, hips pushing against her angel’s hot palm.

“Please, angel.”

“Patience, my dear.”

She trailed kisses along her jaw and neck and Crowley’s head leaned back with a dull thud against the door, giving Aziraphale all the access she needed. That was when Aziraphale began earnestly palming her through the lace, middle finger teasing against her opening and driving Crowley mad.

She whimpered and gasped when Aziraphale pressed her thumb against her clit and stroked harshly enough that Crowley was riding the pain-pleasure wave until it crashed over her.

They were both breathing heavily, Aziraphale against her neck where her teeth had left their marks on Crowley’s skin, and Crowley into Aziraphale’s hair.

“You think we’ll make it inside our bedroom tonight?” Crowley asked dazedly and Aziraphale giggled and pressed a kiss against her shoulder.

“We will,” she said and with a hand wrapped protectively around Crowley’s back, she opened the door and let Crowley drag them in.

But now that Aziraphale took the edge off Crowley, she had ideas. Case in point, she twirled them around and pushed Aziraphale to the foot of the bed until her knees buckled beneath her and she fell with a bounce on the bed.

Crowley used that opportunity to let her flapper dress fall to the floor. They’d both taken their heels off the moment they stepped inside their cottage.

She went so easily to her knees, hands gently pushing Aziraphale’s legs apart. There was so much hunger on her angel’s face that Crowley’s snake tongue automatically flickered out to taste the air. And _oh fucking someone_ it was like sipping from a strong drink. It burned inside Crowley’s mouth and throat, leaving crackling dryness behind.

The front bit of the wedding gown covered Aziraphale’s thighs, the seam stopping just a few inches above her knees. Keeping eye contact with her angel, she palmed her way up Aziraphale’s thighs, bunching the material all the way up. Aziraphale had to lean back on her hands, breathing fast.

Then Crowley ducked her head beneath the last of the fabric licked the wet patch on her angel’s silk knickers. She felt the shudder coursing through Aziraphale’s body and then she must have leaned back on her forearms because the pressure of her stomach against Crowley’s head lessened.

Methodically and excruciatingly slowly, she licked and nuzzled, palms sometimes stroking her thighs, dipping low on the inseam, then returning atop. Sometimes she let her hands wander, grabbing fistfuls of thigh and arse cheeks, emphasized by a particularly strong lick which pulled a deep moan from her angel.

And she was getting impatient, hips moving against Crowley’s mouth, but Crowley only had to lay her hands on Aziraphale’s hips and apply a bit of demonic strength. Her angel moaned long and with abandon which prompted Crowley to lift her head up a bit to see only the long stretch of her pale neck, her chest rising and falling as if she was chased by someone or rather, she was chasing _something._

And Crowley was helping, though not by changing the slow, torturous pace, but by applying that bit of pressure to her strokes. She was getting a bit drunk on her angel’s juices, her tongue licking avidly, even if there was a layer of fabric separating her from sampling that intoxicating flavour straight from the source.

“Crowley, Crowley, please! I can’t! Please, _more!”_

She almost huffed a laugh, but she was too busy concentrating on keeping the same pace, wanting to drive Aziraphale crazy and have her climax just from this.

Eventually, Aziraphale came with a gasp, her entire body clenching and unclenching as Crowley worked her through it. She was laying flat on her back just breathing when Crowley stood up, heat pooling low in her gut again at the sight of her satisfied angel.

“Come on up, angel. We’re nowhere near done.”

Aziraphale opened her eyes a bit, but didn’t move otherwise. “Five more minutes, darling.”

Crowley chuckled and took her hand, dragging her in a sitting position. She pulled a face, no doubt feeling the discomfort of her juices soaking her knickers. Crowley grinned and kissed her as she used that distraction to drag her up all the way and then spinned her around.

“Crowley, what—”

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you.” 

Crowley kissed her naked shoulder as her hands worked the zipper of her strapless wedding gown. Aziraphale smiled over her shoulder, pressing her lips to Crowley’s temple. She wrinkled her nose a bit and Crowley huffed a laugh, placing a quick kiss on her lips.

“You know my hair is more finicky than yours, being as long as it is. Needed hair product.”

“Yes, but the one with the obnoxious smell?”

Crowley nuzzled her cheek. “Forgot to tell Harry.” Aziraphale’s upturned nose was asking for kisses, but Crowley abstained, watching how her — now officially — wife’s expressions went from put upon to resigned and back to being serene. “Can I continue slowly peeling your gown now? I did promise, after all.”

“If you insist,” she said because of course a prim response would find its way out from her lips faster than anything else.

She made it her mission to change that.

Once that zipper reached the end, somewhere atop her angel’s generous bum, she sneaked her hand beneath the silky material and kneaded at one arse cheek as her other hand slowly liberated one breast from the corset.

“Crowley,” she breathed out, her body swaying before she leaned back into Crowley’s welcoming body.

Using her lips to pepper long, hot kisses along the column of her neck, Crowley continued kneading the voluptuous flesh. Her thumb and forefinger pinched the nub before worrying it between her pads slowly.

“Dear,” Aziraphale’s voice was caught between a whine and a moan, “please, could you just—”

Crowley bit at the meaty part at the base of her neck, reminiscent of that morning before the ceremony, and Aziraphale gasped. She continued that torture for a while until it was becoming difficult to keep Aziraphale’s writhing body steady. It was a testament to how much her angel had been looking forward to this that she wasn’t pushing for Crowley to take off her clothes. Her hands dug into Crowley’s thighs, yes, but nothing more than that.

“Climb on the bed, on your knees,” Crowley instructed lowly into her ear and Aziraphale complied readily.

The long bit of the dress was hanging down the edge of the bed, so Crowley picked the seam up and, with a flourish worthy of the most expensive and fancy restaurants in the world, she uncovered her angel’s bum.

She snapped her fingers and the item she wanted to use appeared in her left hand. Another snap and Aziraphale gasped as her most intimate flesh was left unprotected in the slight chill of the room, though the gown remained creased and dishevelled over her back. Crowley had to swallow, a hand caressing an arse cheek with reverence.

“We’ve done our foreplay,” she began. “We’ve both taken the edge off. What I’m about to do will be more direct and intense. Are you with me, angel?”

“Yes, yes, anything, my dear!”

Dangerous words those, but they’d been doing this for the past two years. They both knew each other’s limits and boundaries. Still, whoever was ‘in power’ over the other always checked to make sure they were still on the same page.

Crowley nudged one tip of the toy into Aziraphale’s wet opening and she held her breath, body going tense until she relaxed around it, and she moaned softly as she felt the toy stretching her the deeper it went in. Biting at her lower lip, Crowley pushed the last inches at once which elicited a gasp and Aziraphale’s hips stuttered.

“Someone, angel, you look—” She couldn’t find her own words as she stared at the purple thing, Aziraphale’s juices slowly oozing out from around it. 

Crowley whimpered and hurried to take in the other end, moaning all the way through. Without even talking about it, they decided to do this the human way, so neither would be fashioning any cock or two. Not that night. 

They used a few minutes of lazy thrusting to find the best position which they did when Crowley placed one foot on the bed over Aziraphale’s thigh.

The new angle had them both groaning because it felt as if the toy sank into each other that much more. Then Crowley began thrusting, at first slow, but as her angel’s moans grew louder, Crowley’s thrusts grew shallower and harder, sweaty palms sliding over Aziraphale’s sweaty hips, trying to find purchase. Aziraphale met Crowley’s thrusts and she felt her own orgasm building in the most maddening way, as if they felt the edge was close, but they still had ways to reach it, and in the meantime they were only left with the anticipation.

Aziraphale was cursing and demanding _more_ and _harder_ and Crowley obliged, weak against her angel’s demands, especially when they sang along Crowley’s own need.

They were groaning and gasping, and then Crowley willed the remote into existence at the same time as her demonic power slipped and pushed it all the way up to the highest setting.

Aziraphale cried out and Crowley literally saw stars, her hips developing a mind of their own, pistoning into Aziraphale until they both climaxed. Crowley had the presence of mind to turn the toy off. They were trying to catch their breath, her hands caressing her angel’s sweaty back.

She slowly eased her way off the toy, wincing at how over-sensitive she was, and then did the same for her angel. A towel appeared conveniently on the floor and Crowley placed the toy there to be dealt with later. She didn’t miracle the mess away. Not yet.

“Love, are you okay?” 

She crawled on the bed, grabbing and dragging her angel up towards the pillows, laying her on top of Crowley. Her gown was ruined, not just by her bodily fluids, but also by creases. She petted her angel’s half naked body, sometimes reaching to caress her bottom.

“My dear,” Aziraphale said slowly, still drunk on her orgasms, body pleasantly heavy over Crowley. She felt tethered, safe, loved. “That was…”

Crowley chuckled as she continued placing kisses on her forehead and into her hair. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I love you, angel.”

Aziraphale found the strength to push herself up a bit to look down at Crowley, her breasts having spilled out of her gown’s corset and on top of Crowley’s. She kissed her softly and reverently, and against her lips Aziraphale told her the same, and Crowley’s chest constricted at the way Aziraphale was looking at her. Then her hands found her angel’s generous bosom and fondled each one in one hand. It was like a switch. Hunger slowly filled Aziraphale’s eyes.

She leaned back some more, going on her fours and Crowley shimmied her way down until her mouth had full access to one of Aziraphale’s breasts, while the other one was fondled by Crowley’s right hand. That was because her left one made its way between Aziraphale’s thighs.

“Oh, my dear, I don’t think I can— _oh,”_ she breathed out when Crowley pushed three fingers at once in the mess and Aziraphale sank down all the way. Her thumb found her clit and teased it for a while just to feel Aziraphale jolt and tremble above her.

“Use me, angel,” Crowley said roughly, then sucked a nipple in while the other one was worried between her thumb and index finger.

Aziraphale moaned before she could answer, lazily pushing her hips up and down on Crowley’s fingers.

“As you wish, my darling.”

But before she said anything else as to how she wished to use Crowley, she snapped her fingers and they found themselves very much naked. Crowley groaned around her nipple, tongue swirling around it and making Aziraphale close her eyes in pleasure.

They went like this for a while, no hurry whatsoever, Crowley enjoying having her angel on top of her, taking her pleasure from her just as much as Crowley was taking her own pleasure from seeing Aziraphale enjoying herself.

“Mm, I’m slowly getting there,” her angel said a bit breathlessly.

Then she looked down at Crowley with a smile and shifted herself lower until there was only Crowley’s hand on her breast.

“Angel, what—”

Aziraphale’s hot mouth enveloping around a nipple, hands repositioning Crowley’s legs so that they came around her hips. Then she started faux-thrusting, mingling their juices. 

Crowley moaned, ecstatic at the prospect of making an even more of a mess of themselves than they were. Not that Aziraphale’s tongue and lips teasing her wasn’t enough to get a reaction out of her.

But her angel did stop all too soon, coming up to kiss her thoroughly.

“Let’s change positions now,” Aziraphale said with a mischievous smile.

“You mean, you want me on top?”

“No.”

Off Crowley’s puzzled look, Aziraphale’s amusement seemed to grow and when she gently pushed Crowley’s legs away, she protested weakly, but then Aziraphale turned around, her legs straddling Crowley’s chest and a low moan was building in her throat as Aziraphale’s breath ghosted over Crowley’s partially-shaved mound.

_“Fuck yes,_ angel!”

She chuckled and lowered her hips above Crowley; Crowley shifted a bit, repositioning herself and spreading her legs as much as she could. Then she guided her angel’s hips lower and her tongue flickered against Aziraphale’s wet opening. A pleased hum fanned over Crowley’s wet vulva.

And then they both assaulted the other, their mouths working furiously to clean and lick and suck, moaning almost in tandem, and by doing that bring about yet another orgasm from each other. They cleaned that one too and then Aziraphale collapsed next to Crowley, trying to catch her breath.

“I don’t—” Aziraphale said at the same time as Crowley said, “That was—”

They both laughed, swimming in the chemical soup of just enough orgasms to warrant a short nap.

“My dear, I don’t think I can go for another round just yet.”

“Same here, angel.”

Crowley snapped her fingers and the mess they made of themselves was gone as well as Aziraphale’s wedding gown and the stains on the comforter.

“Care to join me? I need my comfort angel in my arms. We can take a nap before we continue. I still have some ideas left.”

Aziraphale chuckled and shuffled until she was gathered close to Crowley’s chest, their legs tangled and each holding on to the other because there was no other place in the world they’d rather be. 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I received was: Aziraphale proposing to Crowley, first kiss/first time having sex, C+A seeing each other in wedding gowns.  
> Managed 2/3, but I hope it was still worth it!


End file.
